


Young Lion

by unpossible



Series: Magical Bloody Sex Assassin [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unpossible/pseuds/unpossible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T’would be easier if she were an empty vessel, the type of prattling pretty face that populates the Court and flutters about the knights at any given opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young Lion

**Author's Note:**

> This will make little sense unless you have read as far as Chapter 25 of Gadarene (part 1 of this series).

 

She is, of course, luminous as always. Each time he sees her again there is the hope that he has exaggerated it in his own mind, that in truth her lips are flat and thin, eyes overlarge for her face, or that her walk has all the grace of a pregnant sow.

And each time, of course, he is disappointed. She is beautiful, and still it is only the tiniest part of what draws him to her. T’would be easier if she were an empty vessel, the type of prattling pretty face that populates the Court and flutters about the knights at any given opportunity.

Instead she is all sharp ideas and fierce loyalty.

He watches her fly to Arthur’s embrace and forces himself not to look away. They are a matched pair – beautiful and brilliant and stupidly brave. Camelot is lucky to have them. Will be luckier still when they rule. Arthur has grown calmer, more measured since his father’s death. Morgana has always been passionate when roused – they will complement one another.

Still, when they murmur softly to each other, he turns away toward the window, with his usual smile, the one that ensures no-one ever looks deeper. When Arthur addresses Gwen, Leon forces himself to turn back, works with Kay to bind the hands of the lucky fools who had been outside Morgana’s door this day. If Leon had reached them first, they would have taken their last breath too swiftly to comprehend what was upon them.

Still, it is so… so _Morgana_ , to have handled her guards with only a chair and a candlestick. She’s not forgotten any of the stolen lessons then, from when Leon and  Arthur were younger and more reckless, drunk on the idea of becoming knights and happy to show off to the prettiest girl in Camelot.

Her instinctive flinch from Merlin is perhaps, not unexpected. Uther Pendragon helped to form her character, after all. Leon is at her side before he understands what he’s doing, that he is offering comfort that it is _Arthur’s_ place to give. But the Prince remains where he is, brooding over the insult offered to Merlin rather than Morgana’s obvious shock. And so Leon murmurs meaningless words into her ear, takes too much pleasure from the way she leans against him, just for a moment.

And he has to wonder how soon a mind as bright as Morgana’s will notice the way the lad and Arthur turn always toward one another. This is no careless tumble, no winter’s comfort, and he swallows. Morgana will not – has never had to learn – to share what is hers. There is trouble ahead. Still, she summons her faultless manners and greets Merlin, and his gut twists to see her, so gracious.

So ready to be Queen.

He watches her turn, glance over her shoulder at Gwen, trying so hard for her normal, arch tone, but she is trembling, and he would raze this entire keep to the ground if it would take that wounded look from her eyes.

Leon takes a deep breath and looks away. He knows his own weakness. Knows he should take himself far from Camelot. Knows, too, that his loyalty and love for Arthur is as much a shackle as his helpless attraction to Morgana. How can he do this? How can he love them both, and betray neither? How can he uphold his knight’s oath beneath the weight of all of this?

Because despite it all, he is still only a man. And there is, always, some part of him, some ugly, hidden part of him hoping for something to actually happen, to cast aside all propriety and loyalty and just _have_ the one he longs for.

The room fills up, then, once the ruin is secured. Pelinor and the others arrive, with introductions and laughter all around. He gathers up every ounce of control of he can find and is ready when Morgana comes to express her thanks, smiling so beautifully at him he can only grip her hand and shake his head like a bashful boy.

And then Gwen is there, ushering Morgana away. The ladies withdraw, needing some time to themselves and after, Leon knows, Arthur will seek her out. Perhaps this is the moment. Perhaps, tonight, the axe will fall.

A betrothal. Undeniable proof that she belongs to another.

 _Surely_ it will be enough to free him.

Leon stands in the midst of the ruined castle, and watches her go.

 

 


End file.
